After an uneventful flight (non--stop Minneapolis/Paris) I got into the most dreadful jet-lag, from which I am only now just recovering. No help from the sleeping pills I got before I left, to fight it, just made it worse. So, I have been staying home a lot, trying to acclimate. I did get to go and see my old friend, Jean-loup, who is suffering from cancer, but who is hopeful of some possible remission. My friend, Sharif, with whom I am staying, is a big movie fan like me, so I have already been to the movies a couple of times.
Sharif has that process down. We drive over to La Defense (the big high-rise Plaza that is like a huge pedestrian mall), where there is a rather elegant multiple-screening-room complex – all stadium seating – complete with popcorn and soft drinks but also with a little Parisian café/bar that serves good coffee and appertifs. We saw Contagion (about a worldwide pandemic) after which Sharif observed that it is amazing what we will call "entertainment"! We also saw Brad Pitt's new movie about the general manager of the Oakland athletics (the French version is called Strategy). It is an interesting enough story but mainly a showcase for Brad as good, middle-aged actor.
Out on the plaza, there is a fairly sizable Occupy camp. Everyone seems to approve. There is also an enormous "Christmas market", which is kind of like a farmers' market (row after row of booths) but it's all for Christmas. Sharif says they copied it from the Germans, and have outdone them. At least in terms of size. Interesting contrast between the camp and the market!
We went to church yesterday, at the American Cathedral of the Holy Trinity. It is in a very ritzy location: a block off the Champs Elysee, right next to one of the world's most expensive hotels (the Four Seasons). The last time I was here, the French had considerately provided guards in camouflage suits with submachine guns, for some reason, but no sign of them now. I must say that I was quite favorably impressed with the scene at the Cathedral. First, it is a really beautiful building: high, narrow Gothic, fine glass, and a really superb choir. As for churchmanship, they are about like St. Mark's: Eucharistic vestments, six candles on the altar – grouped in clumps of three on each side, which I think is a good idea – and side-altar candles lit for the high mass, as God intended! They even used a sanctus-bell chime, but no incense. Bells but no smells! Even though it was the Feast of Christ the King. We attended before him before the mass, and it was most rewarding and well-attend. The visiting preacher, who led the before, is the retired dean of our Cathedral in Providence. She was most engaging, eloquent, and interesting. Also an excellent preacher. They don't seem to have much going on in the way of services during the week, so I doubt that I will be of any use to them. But who knows? They are beginning their search for a new Dean, even as they await their interim Dean. Anyway there were lots of friendly people, easy to talk to, and I felt quite at home. Sharif and I will go to their annual American Thanksgiving dinner there on Thursday.
Yesterday I ventured out on my own for the first time, except for grocery-shopping on the high street a couple of blocks from here. It takes the better part of an hour to get from here to the Louvre. I find the trip rather enjoyable, because you get to do a lot of people-watching, and most of it is through the lovely Blois de Boulogne. [This was once the private hunting preserve of the Emperor, whose bedroom I was going to visit. His hunting lodge is now a restaurant.] Even though it is late fall, it is mild enough here so that there is still a good deal of muted color. The climate is damp enough so that the grass is always lush and green, and many of the trees still have tinted leaves. It is also really fun to ride the Parisian public transportation system, the only thing wrong with which it is lots of stairs. The metro is especially bad in this regard. Although there are up-escalators at most stations, half of them don't seem to work. Fortunately the stop at the Louvre has only a few stairs. I sprung for a membership, so that I can get in free, and don't have to stand in line.
Once inside however, it is kind of a challenge to find the elevators. They are there, but carefully hidden. Anyway I managed to find my way to the “First Floor”, which is actually three floors above the entrance! Well, the reception area is now underground, at subway level, and then there is the ground level and another level called the street level (raised about half a story above grade) and then the first or "noble" floor. My goal was the apartments of Emperor Napoleon III. Really sumptuous, as you can imagine. I guess the Republicans (the good guys in late 19th-century French politics) were fed up with all the pomp. They sold off the crown jewels in the 1880s. This was all explained at the small display of part of what was left: two diamond tiaras and a pair of Ruby-diamond bracelets. Behind glass, of course, but you could get right up next to them.
Then there is food. I do love to go grocery shopping! It's not that the commodities are that much better than ours, just different. The supermarkets, for example, have lots and lots of canned duck. And they cut the beef differently from our manner. For one thing you can get little packages of beef already cut exactly the right size for bouef bourguignon. I made a stew of that already. Our major restaurant excursion so far has been an indescribably beautiful place called La Fermiette de Marbuef. It's right across the street from the Cathedral, and Sharif and I went there after coffee hour. The menu of the day was pretty ordinary, up-scale, French offerings: lobster bisque, duck quarter, and chocolate mousse with whipped cream – preceded by the charming French custom, amuse bouche (delight the mouth), which was a little shot glass with purée of carrot and of fresh herb sprig that I couldn't identify.
But the really memorable feature of this restaurant is the art nouveau interior.
The place was built at the height of that fashion, in 1900. For years it was forgotten – closed and used as a storehouse, incredibly. But it’s restoration is breathtaking. Mostly fabulous compositions in ceramic tiles on the wall, with pilasters and columns of fanciful, curvy design, and high-arched skylights of pale stained glass. Like sitting inside of Maxfield Parrish painting. Not to be missed. [More pix.]
Sharif has signed us up for a musicale on December 2, at the Cathedral – the choir singing the Mozart Requiem, and another, contemporary choral work. I don't know if it's intentional, but that is an appropriate day for a requiem – the martyrdom of the four N. American church women in El Salvador.
After that, it will be time to head for Madrid. For some reason, there are really cheap flights everywhere. Only about $150 round-trip to Madrid from Paris. Even so, I think I may take the train back, and stop off in Barcelona, if I feel up to it. I find that I'm not as energetic as I once was, even the last time I was here three years ago. But we'll see, maybe it's just jet-lag.
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